A TROUBLING CASE
The day Loralei had gone to Farron about Ennui Principio, she went home immediately afterward. She didn't feel like doing much else. That night, regardless of her schedule the following morning, she stayed up long after midnight. She tried to sleep, but it was no use. She sat up with a book, but couldn't really concentrate on that, either. Feeling more and more unsettled, she left the bed and went to her daughter. She took Rachel out of her bed and brought her back to her room. She didn't want to admit that was lonely and needed some companionship. It didn't seem as if her husband was in a big hurry to come home. She hated herself for feeling so jealous, but damn if she wasn't afraid that her husband was with her. No. He wouldn't. He wouldn't do that to you. She wanted to call him, but didn't dare pick up the phone. If she called and he didn't answer the phone, it would break her heart. Of course, she had no idea what was going on, that Donovan had a full-blown crisis before him.
It started earlier that day when Cody and Monica had dug up every bit of information they could find about the Huete gang. Cody had somehow unearthed several photographs of Huete, and Donovan studied them to see if he could recognize the man. There was nothing in his rugged face that seemed the slightest bit familiar. He was closer and closer to contacting Farron. He started to reach for the phone when Cody cleared his throat and announced that he had discovered some photos of Huete's women. Donovan wasn't exactly interested in seeing the women, but Cody kept going on and on about how lovely this one particular woman was, what a shame it was that she was a prostitute, blah, blah, blah. Groaning incoherently, he strolled over to Cody and stood behind him. He focused his eyes on the blurry photograph for what seemed like a year. He recognized the woman of course, but his brain didn't quite accept the information it had taken in. This photo was a few years old, probably taken not long after he left her in Florida with Farron. Incredibly, he shook his head. There was a definite connection, and a huge one with Farron as well. What had the viper said in the restaurant? She had some information for him? The bitch had become a whore and now she wanted to turn to him. Her unmitigated gall was absolutely amazing.
"The woman," Monica said, "is known as Primera. She evidentially is Huete's top girl. Rumor has it that she broke away a few months ago and completely disappeared. She could probably help us out, if we could find her."
Monica's words went in one ear and out the other. She didn't know that their witness, their 'informant,' if you will, had approached him while he was trying to spend some time with his wife. He had no desire to bring her in, none at all. However, he might have to swallow his disgust just long enough to extract information from her. Of course, he would give that job to Jake. He didn't want to speak to her, didn't want her to think there could ever be anything between them. She already mistakenly thought he gave a damn, and if he actually called her to come, her mind would fly off into a direction that made him sick at his stomach. Goddamn he hated the idea that she did have something to add. Goddamn if he hated to admit that her input could help Alex infiltrate the ring. Sighing grudgingly, he stepped away for a moment and ran his hands over his face. He would have to tell them, he would have to mention it no matter how much he hated it. He glanced at the clock and saw it was past seven. Before he said a word, he took off upstairs to call Loralei. There would be no going home early tonight. Once he spoke to his wife [feeling like a shit the entire time…he had been neglecting the hell out of her lately], he hung up and called Farron.
With a heavy and disgusted heart, he left his office with Farron's information in hand. The photos were still up and Donovan avoided the hell out of them. He stood back behind the two agents with a sheet of notepaper in his hand. Not only did Farron know Huete, but he also had some interesting information to share about him. How would he go about this? How would he tell them that this cocaine prostitute had once been engaged to him? "I know this woman," he spat. There was no other way to do it, none at all.
Cody turned around for a moment and focused his startled eyes on Donovan's face. "You do, Boss? No shit?"
"No shit," he said. He glanced at Jake and handed him a slip of paper. "This is her contact information. Call her and get her down here. I don't want to see her, or hear her voice, do you understand?"
Jake gazed down at the slip of paper. "Uh, sure, Boss. How do you know her?"
"It's not important," he spat as he headed toward his office. He didn't want to be here when she arrived. He was afraid he might strangle her.
Alex watched as Donovan slipped upstairs. She wondered if Loralei had told him about the baby yet. She figured she hadn't just his demeanor. What's the hold up, she thought. If Loralei didn't tell him soon, Alex wasn't sure how long she could keep it a secret. She was tempted to call her friend, but didn't want Donovan hearing their conversation. If anyone needed to let the cat of out the bag, it was Loralei.
* * *
He has sent for me. He has finally sent for me. I knew it was only a matter of time, Enni thought as she stood before a full-length mirror. Of course, it hadn't been Donovan who actually called her, but it was good enough for her. The thought of being near him was enough to make her smile. She put on tight jeans [that left little to the imagination] and an equally snug sweater that would accentuate her abundant breasts. With a catty little giggle, she noted that his pale little wife wasn't as endowed as she. Poor Frank, she thought. He was always a breast man and he had been missing out far too long. She gasped suddenly. She had almost forgotten the most important part of her wardrobe. How could she be so careless? So stupid? It had to be the thought of being so close to him again. She popped open her little jewelry box and found her most prized piece. It was the engagement ring he had given her when they had an entire future laid out before them. He would come around. Besides, if a man was overly aggressive, didn't it always mean he was denying his feelings? It did. She had no doubt.
It took Enni longer to find a parking space than it did the building. She had been here before, though, but she didn't want any of them knowing it. As she strolled up to the building and entered, two men and two women greeted her. Donovan was nowhere in sight. Her eyes followed a strip of floor over to a small flight of stairs that led to a second floor office. This office would be Donovan's. It was exactly what he would have chosen for his sanctuary. She wondered why he hadn't bothered to come down to her. He had sent for her, and surely, he would want to see her, wouldn't he?
One of the men approached her. He had a stocky build and thick dark brown hair. "If you'll follow me-"
Enni stepped back as if she were offended. "I will not speak to anyone but Frank. If he can't face me, I will not talk. Do you understand?"
Jake sighed. He had little patience with this Colombian shit. It was too close to Farron for his comfort level. "Donovan specifically asked that I interview you. I promise it will be harmless. Please come with me."
She crossed her arms over her chest as if she were a wayward child. "No, I will not follow you. If you don't bring Frank down, I'll walk. I'll wait here while you retrieve him. If he won't speak to me, then you're wasting your time."
Jake sighed angrily and looked her up and down with a drawl of disgust on his face. "Fine, lady, whatever. Stay down here and I'll inform him of your…reluctance." He walked away from the painted lady and casually climbed the stairs. He knocked on the door and entered only after Donovan barked an annoyed 'come in.'
Donovan fixed his eyes on Jake's face. "What is it?"
He sighed. "She won't talk to me. She said if you don't come downstairs, she'll walk."
Donovan was tempted to tell Jake to pass along a heartfelt 'fuck off' to the woman downstairs. Damn it. They needed her information. When he had spoken to Farron earlier, he had told him that Enni had gone with him to Colombia and became Huete's mistress before he seduced her into the life of prostituting herself for cocaine. After that, she had taken her trustworthy good looks out onto the streets to recruit other young women and teenage girls. Farron had been more than reluctant to speak about Enni considering their past history. However, Donovan had calmly explained that it was mere water under the bridge. He held no ill will toward his brother, not anymore. He listened as Farron went into great detail regarding Enni's involvement. He only touched upon her recent breaking away. Actually, Farron hadn't wanted to mention that he had fucked around with her. Donovan sighed heavily and buried his face into his hands for a few moments. He didn't show vulnerability in front of his agents very often, but right at that moment, he couldn't help it. He figured that Jake wanted to know what his connection was to the cocaine call girl, but he didn't care to repeat it.
"Tell her I'll be down in a minute," he said through gritted teeth.
Enni waited impatiently for Donovan to appear. She could feel the eyes of the other agents, sizing her up, and judging her. What did they know? She cared little about them, she only wanted Donovan, and by God, she would have him. She watched as the one named 'Jake' came downstairs a few moments before Donovan sauntered down. She noticed he had a similar look on his face that he had worn at the restaurant. This time, though, it was a bit more sedate. He was coming around. Yes, slowly but surely. Donovan stopped when he was no closer than five feet from her. He didn't want to be any closer for fear of wrapping his hands around her throat. Actually, he didn't care enough about her to strangle her. Without a word, without a sound, he turned away from her and made his way toward the conference table. Enni and the four agents followed silently behind. Donovan pulled out a chair and sat down with little fanfare. He focused his eyes on Enni's face and waited for her to speak. He didn't want to ask one question. If she had a story to tell, she could do her own damn talking.
When Enni sat down, she laid her arms out on the table and crossed her hands in front of her. Of course, she had done this blatantly. She wanted him to see the engagement ring, wanted to show him that she was still committed to him in more ways than one. Donovan gave her a cursory glance and then his eyes fell on her left hand. To his sheer horror, he saw that she was wearing the engagement ring. After all these years, she had kept it. He was tempted to ask why she hadn't pawned it off for cocaine. He couldn't pity her, couldn't feel anything. He once again found himself thinking that she had a lot of nerve about her.
"So you know what I've been up to since I saw you last," Enni said suddenly, keeping her eyes focused on his profile.
Donovan shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. He didn't hesitate to fix a steely gaze on her face. "I must say that I'm not surprised in the least bit, especially considering your weakness for sleazy sex." His comment didn't make her blink. "I'm not here to focus on our past, Ms. Principio. What I need to know is what you can do for this assignment. Although laughable, it has been noted that you're reformed."
"Ms. Principio," she said with a laugh. "How formal. I would have thought you could manage something better than that. I have seen you naked, after all."
Looks of shocked surprise were shared among the four agents seated at the table. The boss said he knew this woman, but he hadn't mentioned in what context.
Thank God Loralei isn't here, Alex thought.
He shrugged again. "Ancient history archived in the 'flushed down the toilet' file. This will remain a formal meeting, Ms. Principio. I have no desire to have a conversation beyond business. In fact, I have no desire to speak to you at all. The choice is simple. You either want to assist us as an informant, or you don't. Your information would help, but my agents can handle it if you decide not to assist. There's nothing more, nothing less. Make your decision. You're wasting my time. I have a job to do, a wife and a daughter to go home to, and I have little patience for your bullshit right now."
Once you feel my hands all over your body, Vigoureux, you will change your mind. I could always control you with a simple touch. I did it then, and it would be easy to do it now. "I'll do whatever I can, but I must ask for your protection. Alca Huete will kill me if he finds me. I know how powerful you are, Frank, and I know that you can protect me."
He almost laughed. "Nervy, aren't you? I also have no desire to protect you. However, I will see what I can do. Perhaps Director Fielder will assign an agent to act as a bodyguard throughout the duration of this case. I won't be involved with you directly, so don't look for it, and definitely don't expect it." He stood suddenly and glanced at the people sitting around the table. "This is over. Alex, Jake, allow Ms. Principio to give you whatever information she has." Without another word, Donovan walked away and went back upstairs to his office.
* * *
It was one in the morning before Donovan finally came home. He found Loralei asleep on the bed, still fully dressed. Rachel rested comfortably in the crook of her arm. She had been sleeping as well until she heard Daddy entering the room. She focused her vibrant eyes on his face and smiled up at him adoringly. She cried out a happy "da" as he approached. Her piping baby voice didn't disturb Loralei the least bit. Donovan smiled a little and carefully lifted her out of his wife's embrace. He gently hugged her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Shh," he whispered. "If you wake her up, she might hurt me."
She cried: "No! Da!"
Donovan quickly carried her out of the room and moved toward hers. When he returned, Loralei was awake and gazing around the room in confusion. She glanced at the bedside clock and noticed the hour.
"Where have you been," she asked indignantly.
"Helping interrogate a witness," he said simply. "It took much longer than I thought. Are you okay? You sound pissed off."
Was she? She shook her head. No. She wasn't pissed off, she was scared and jealous. "I'm sorry, I just expected you to come home sooner, that's all." She sighed a little as he began undressing for a quick shower before bed. She was tempted to examine his back for telltale fingernail scratches. Would you stop? "Frank, we need to find some time to talk. I know you're tied up, but here lately, we've hardly had more than two hours alone."
The shower could wait. He tossed his sweater into the laundry basket before he approached her and sat down beside her. "I'm yours."
Was he? Was he really? Stop it. "I've been trying to talk to you for a few days now, but something always comes up before I can say what I need to say."
His hand came up and rested gently on the side of her face. She turned her cheek into it before he ran his fingers through her hair. "I know, and I'm sorry for that. I've been neglecting you, and I thought that would never happen. I have a lot on my mind, but it doesn't excuse what I've done to you."
You and me both, bub. "You don't have to apologize, Frank. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. That's not it. It's something else, and I don't know how you will react, but on the Monday after our housewarming thing, I-"
Before she could say another word, his work cell phone began to ring from the depths of his jacket pocket. When he began to undress, he had thrown it haphazardly over the back of a nearby chair. "I'll ignore it. Go ahead," he told her.
"Answer the phone, Frank, I can't stand hearing it ring," she said with a sigh.
"No," he insisted. "Tell me. I told you, I'm all yours."
It seemed as if the damn cell phone had rung fifteen dozen times. Surely, the voice mail would have kicked on by now, but it didn't. Her nerves already frazzled, Loralei couldn't stand it. She got up, went over to his jacket, grabbed the phone, and snapped it open. She handed it to her husband and waited for him to take it. Sighing in frustration, he took the phone from her outstretched hand.
He stood and walked over to the other side of the room. "Donovan." A pause. "I told you not to call me here, I think I made that clear."
He couldn't see Loralei's face, but she stood gazing at her husband in disbelief. Who the hell was he talking to? Did he think she was stupid? Why hadn't she answered the damn phone before giving it to him? Damn it. She hated feeling this way.
"I don't care. Do what you must." He snapped the phone closed and stuffed it back into the jacket. Before turning toward his wife, he caressed the nape of his neck.
"Who was that," she asked softly.
He glanced at her and shook his head. 'It's not a big deal,' the gesture seemed to say. The phone call had distracted him yet again. "Fielder."
"At one in the morning?"
He turned toward her. His glance had become a gaze. "Yes," he said. "He's helping with our new case, and earlier, I had to drag him out of bed. I suppose he thinks he had to return the favor."
"Frank? Does this have anything to do with that woman from the restaurant the other night?"
She had asked the question on purpose. Of course, he didn't realize that she had talked to Farron already, and knew more than she wanted to know. Perhaps she was trying to gauge his reaction. She was certain he would blow it off, and he did.
He shrugged for a third time. "Loralei, baby, I told you that she has no impact on my life whatsoever." He went about discarding the rest of his clothing. It seemed as if he suddenly remembered he had yet to shower.
She recognized the tone of his voice. He didn't want to discuss the issue further, and she wouldn't push it. She simply didn't want to deal with the thoughts rushing through her mind. How could she mistrust him so? She had never felt like this before. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She had felt like this in the brief span of weeks their relationship had cooled [died] during the first round with Black Heart. Even then, she had loved him. She had watched him as 'the baron' with several other women who were ready to snag their hooks into him. It was the same feeling, only intensified. Did she really doubt him, or was she simply overemotional because of the baby? She watched silently while he stepped into the bathroom and started the shower.
"I'm pregnant, you jerk," she grumbled under her breath. She intended to wait up for him, but her exhaustion didn't allow her to stay awake.